Midnight Encounter
by Catmint
Summary: Hermione goes for a walk outside late at night and encounters a fellow prefect. They talk. Please read and review.


Midnight Encounter

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never have been. Never will be.

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A/N: Written about a year before OotP came out. And the reference to the BBC adaptation IS TRUE. I watched it and still have it on video because it's so good.

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The early December night air was cold, yet refreshing, as sixth-year prefect Hermione Granger walked down to the edge of the lake, winter boots crunching on the crisp white snow underfoot and breath forming small white clouds in the air in front of her mouth. It was nearly midnight, but one look out of her common room window after finishing her Ancient Runes homework (a complex translation), and the temptation had been too great. The sky was clear and deep violet, spattered with more stars than even Professor Sinistra could name in Astronomy lessons. It was beautiful, picture-perfect. The way it should be, without all the light pollution from Muggle urban areas that was often complained about by stargazers. She didn't mind the cold; she was well wrapped up in layers, plus winter cloak, hat, Gryffindor scarf and gloves.

She was almost at the lake edge when she realised there was somebody already there, sitting on one of the benches that had been put there over summer. The scarf around their neck indicated a non-Gryffindor – a Slytherin, to be precise – and the moonlight gleaming off his white-blond hair identified him as her arch-enemy, Draco Malfoy. He didn't seem to have heard her footsteps, though, as he continued to gaze out across the lake, still as a statue, as though he had frozen in that spot. Hermione stood there awkwardly, unsure whether to make her presence known. That particular problem was solved almost immediately, as he turned round. "Granger," he stated unemotionally, turning back to the lake.

"Malfoy."

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing!" she retorted.

He shrugged. "Fair point. You going to answer?"

Hermione paused. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Be my guest."

She brushed snow off the seat of the bench and sat down next to him, looking out across the lake. "I'm here because it's so beautiful and peaceful out here," she said. "That's my answer."

"Yeah, it is," he agreed quietly, not moving even when a slight breeze blew a lock of hair (no longer slicked back) into his grey eyes.

"So are you just admiring the scenery as well?" she inquired in an effort to keep the conversation going, ignoring her mind screaming at her in disbelief that she was actually having a civil conversation with _Draco Malfoy,_ of all people!

He shook his head. "No. I just – I needed space to think. You know?"

She nodded. "I know. I usually go to the library."

He snorted. "_You_ would. Ever the bookworm, Hermione."

"And you're not?"

"I'm sorry?"

A smile played at the corner of her lips. "Narnia? Lord of the Rings? Pride and Prejudice? Jane Eyre? Wuthering Heights? _Shakespeare_? I've seen them all in your bag, so don't deny it."

"I wasn't going to. Pride and Prejudice is fun. I love Narnia and Lord of the Rings most of all. It's an escape from this world. I need to do that sometimes. Escape, I mean." He looked directly at her for the first time, and she saw the sadness and loneliness in those suddenly unguarded grey depths. "You want to learn things; I want to escape. Both good reasons for reading a lot, wouldn't you say?"

She nodded, but something in his voice and words made her stop. "Why do you want to escape?"

"Because Narnia and Middle Earth are better than one of Father's 'you-will-become-a-Death-Eater' lectures," he replied simply. "In books you don't have to live up to anybody's expectations. You can be yourself, not what other people want or expect you to be."

"I've never read Narnia before," Hermione confessed, giving him a sheepish look. She hadn't even seen the BBC adaptation of the second Narnia book, which had been on TV over Christmas of 1991, when she had been a first-year. She'd been at home that year but had missed it.

"That can soon be rectified," he replied, giving her a genuine, warm smile.

"How do you intend to do that?"

"Leave your bag open in Potions tomorrow. When nobody's looking, _The Magician's Nephew_ will appear in it. Take care of it. Or, if you like, we could meet here at eleven-thirty tomorrow night?" He gave her a questioning look., as though he was expecting her to refuse.

"Okay then. Same time tomorrow." She stood up. "I'd better go to bed. Oh, and Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks." 

He held her gaze for a moment before she left, smiling and getting one in return. A look of friendship, the bond created by their mutual love of books. He watched her walk back up to the castle and head inside, the smile never fading from his face, a warm feeling inside him. There was nothing wrong with being nice for once. He had enjoyed her company. Hopefully there would be many more of these meetings to come.

Hermione was having similar thoughts as she returned to her dormitory. '_He's not so bad really,'_ she thought. '_I'm looking forward to tomorrow night.'_

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THE END


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